


Ghostwriter

by rikkisixx



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:10:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7835074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikkisixx/pseuds/rikkisixx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Drake decides to write his story, but he isn't much of a writer. He's told to hire a Ghostwriter...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> all tags and warnings apply to the story as a whole, not each individual chapter.

“So, what exactly do you do?” Sam asks you, lighting a cigarette. “Oh, can I?” he gestures toward his cigarette.

You nod and he continues. He flicks the lighter twice, shakes it, then flicks once more to get a decent flame. “I mean, I was told I’d need a ghostwriter, but I don’t know exactly how this works.”

You smile, “Well Mr. Drake, if you choose to hire me, what I do is help you write the story without any of the credit. You’ll be the credited author, but I’ll take the story you relay to me and make it readable in a novelization. I take care of the flow, the punctuation, the grammar, that sort of thing. You can also just bring me a rough draft if you’d like to type it up yourself and I can fix the errors and, again, format it for a novel.”

“Oh yea, okay. That’s good because I jump around a lot, anyone who reads it would probably get pretty lost.” 

You laugh a little, “Yea, it’s how we tell stories, we all jump around a bit or we’ll miss something and have to say, wait, before this happened, I forgot that THIS happened. That’s another benefit, you can jump all over, I can take those pieces and put them back in order.”

“Cool, how long does the whole process take? I mean, I’m guessing we’re going to spend a lot of time together.”

“Well, that depends on you and your story, Mr. Drake. It could be a matter of weeks, could be months. I had one client that was pretty scatterbrained. It took us over a year to get them published.”

“Oh shit, a whole year?”

“Yes, but that’s atypical.”

“I see. Okay, well when do we start?”

You take out your appointment calendar and show him the available dates. You lock in a date and time. Sam gets up to leave.

“Nice to meet you, I look forward to working with you.” he says, smirking.

“Likewise, Mr. Drake; I can’t wait to hear the story of your adventures.”

Sam leaves your office and you go back to your desk. You’ve had many attractive clients before, that was nothing new, but there was something about Sam that sent your heart aflutter. It crosses your mind for a moment that this could be a conflict of interest, but you quickly laugh it off. 

The morning before you go in for your first appointment with Sam, you found yourself being more meticulous than usual with your appearance. You were behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of it. Especially considering you’re already IN a relationship. You tell yourself that there’s no harm in looking nice; it’s not like anything is going to happen anyway, he’s a client, and you’re in a relationship. It’s all harmless. 

‘He’s just nice to look at. Yeah. That’s all.’ You nod at yourself in the mirror and head out for work.

Sam arrives a few minutes late wearing very tight jeans and a black V-neck shirt. He appears nervous and asks again if he may smoke. You nod in approval and set an ashtray back on the table for him.

Your office is quite spacious with a large picture window overlooking downtown on one wall. You have the nice black pleather couch and coffee table in the middle for your clients. You have your supply closet which resembles more of a wardrobe than a proper closet. Then of course there's your desk, beautiful dark wood covered in computer equipment and papers. You gesture for him to have a seat on the couch as you bring your desk chair around to the other side of the coffee table. 

“So, Mr. Drake… As we go along I may hold up my hand to stop you. This is only to have you repeat something I may have misunderstood, or to have you spell a name, or location for reference. I am going to record you but I'm also going to be taking notes, so don’t feel as though you have to speak slow enough for me to write or type, because that's what the recorder is for.”

Sam nods along as you speak; he’s become more visibly nervous at this point.

“You can relax, Mr. Drake. There’s no judgment here, just a place to tell your story.”

“Sam,” He says.

“Sorry?”

“Please. Call me Sam.” 

You flash him a grin,. “Of course. Shall we begin, Sam?”

He nods again and takes a long drag from his cigarette before starting to speak of his childhood. He smiles wistfully when describing his mother, grimaces slightly when talking about his father, but his best expressions begin we he starts talking about the birth of his baby brother. He gestures wildly while going on about what it was like finding out he wouldn't be an only child anymore and how, at first, he detested the idea. He gets up and starts to walk around, cigarette in hand, talking with his hands as much as his mouth as he details the birth of little Nathan.  
Then, the story starts to take a turn, surrounding the illness of his mother. He slows his pace and ends up by the window, looking out over the city. He stops talking, you're making your notes and after a moment you lift your head up… 

Sam is still staring out the window, silent, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

“Do you want to take a break?” you ask, gently.

He shakes his head and wipes the tear from his face. He continues on, recalling the death of his mother and him and his brother being abandoned by his father, dumped on the steps of an orphanage. He sits down again and takes a pause. 

“I think we have enough for today, Sam.”

He raises his head and seems comforted.. 

“Good first day, though. You've given me a lot to start on.”

He looks relieved, “Yeah? Okay, that’s good…”

He continues to appear uneasy, the power of reaching into his history has overwhelmed him. 

“There’s a bar next door. What do you say I pack up for the day and we head over and have a drink?”

“Yeah,” he answers, “I think that would be good.”

You simper and gather up all your notes, your recorder and your laptop into your messenger bag. You both walk next door to the bar. It’s filled with other corporate/office types, but unlike previous clients, Sam doesn't seem to notice or care. You choose a seat at the end of the bar and Sam excuses himself to the restroom. When the bartender comes over, you order two whiskeys, one double. Sam definitely could use the double. 

The bartender serves you and you hand him your card, “Keep it open.”

Sam returns and you slide the double over to him. He grins at you and holds up the glass. “To our continued partnership.”

You hold up your glass to his, “Hear, hear!” you say as you clinked his glass with yours. 

You both throw back your whiskeys in a single gulp. 

“Alright then, only one rule at the bar,” you say, “No work talk!”

He laughs, agrees and lights a cigarette. “Alright, tell me something about you.”

You mull it over, trying to think of something interesting but lighthearted. You tell him a funny story from recently and the two of you keep the drinking and talking going for a couple hours.

As you are paying the tab, Sam glances over at you and smirks, “You know, you’re like a therapist.”

You laugh, “Not really. I mean, the storytelling process can be incredibly therapeutic, that’s for sure, but I don’t have any sage life advice to give, I just ask: ‘and how do you spell that name?’ and record the rest.”

“Fair enough,” he smiles, grabbing his jacket.

You get outside and turn to walk to your car. “See you tomorrow, Sam,” you wave as you head out. He waves back as he walks the other direction. You make your way home where your significant other, Riley, is waiting in the driveway.

“Hey, babe!” You say, as you park the car. They glare at you disapprovingly. 

“I've been waiting here for an hour.”

“Well, I had a session that ran late and we took a long break. I didn't even know you were coming over tonight, you could have texted or called.”

They grumble and exit the car. You roll your eyes as you dig for your keys. ‘So dramatic,’ you think, ‘good lorrrrrd.’

You get inside and have dinner together. You both talk about your day, as you do, but you find yourself struck at how different it is talking with them than it was with Sam. Not just because of the obvious, they're totally different people… But how you've been with them so long and sometimes conversations can, even after all this time, feel like a struggle, whereas with Sam it all seemed to flow naturally. 

After dinner they stayed over. In the morning, you both get ready for work as usual. You kiss Riley goodbye and head to the office. 

You get setup and meet with a couple other clients before Sam calls.

“Hey, I don’t think I setup our next date… APPOINTMENT… thing. You know what I mean.” he says.

You laugh and open your calendar, “Is tomorrow good? I have an opening in the morning, as well as after lunch.” 

“Well, don’t eat any lunch then. I’ll bring something to eat and we can start after.”

“Oh, you don’t nee-”

“No, no, you bought the drinks, it’s the least I can do. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

You pencil him in after tomorrow’s lunch and buzz in your next client. 

You work with them for a couple hours, but it wraps up early. You pack up your things and head home. 

That night you sleep alone, but your mind is wild with dreams of Sam. You wake up aroused. You’ve noticed other people while dating before, but none had ever made you feel this way. You feel guilty, though. You’re not supposed to think of others like this while in a relationship and it’s not as if there was anything inherently wrong with your relationship. While getting ready, you start to wonder if it would be better to have Sam work with another ghostwriter. 

By the time you get to work and get your coffee, you’ve got your mind straight. When lunchtime rolls around, you tell yourself that you don’t need to get Sam another writer. Sure, you were a little flustered when you first awoke, but you’re fine now. Juuuuuuuuust fine. Sam arrives ten minutes late, his hands full of bags of food. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked…” he blurts out.

“Okaaaaay.” you say, wide eyed.

“So I got burgers, chicken, salad, and a turkey sandwich.”

“Where… did you get all that?”

“I went to a few places.”

“Oh my gosh, Sam. Really.”

“It’s cool, it’s cool. I haven’t eaten anything today so whatever you don’t pick, I’m sure I’ll eat between now and dinner.”

You shake your head and smile at him… “What’s on the burger?” you ask.

After lunch you and Sam get straight back to work. He starts to recall the time spent in the orphanage; how he was constantly in trouble and finally, got himself kicked out. He stops abruptly and you continue scribbling for a moment. When you look up, he’s grinning at you.

“What?” you ask.

“You… you got a little…” he walks over and reaches his hand toward your face. With a light stroke of his thumb, he grazes the side of your bottom lip. “... a little ketchup here…”

“Oh!” You quickly put your notes down and run back to your desk.

“I got it, you’re fine now!” he chortles.

You pull out your compact anyway and check your face for any more evidence of food. All clear. He’s still by the couch, chuckling to himself. You sigh, walk back to your chair and pick your notes back up.

“You were saying?” you ask, in a jokingly annoyed tone.

Sam continues his story until your time for the day is done. He schedules his next meeting after the weekend and you add it to your calendar. You thank him again for the lunch, and he thanks you again for the drinks and then, he says goodbye and leaves. You gather up your notes and head back your desk to start filtering through today’s work. Sam suddenly comes back into the office.

“Hey, did you forget something?” 

“Not exactly… I uh… I was just wondering if it would be... like… inappropriate to ask you if you wanna go out sometime?”

“Oh... Well, no, I don’t think it’s inappropriate, but I am actually already in a relationship.” you tell him reluctantly.

“Oh right, sure, of course you are, why wouldn't you be... I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, really; I’m…. really flattered.” you smile reassuringly at him.

“Well…. Until next time.” He leaves again and your heart sinks. You know you were doing what was right for everyone involved, but it stung all the while.


	2. 2

You and Sam continue working for a solid month. He’s recounted through his teenage years and is now talking through his twenties. The older he gets in the timeline, the more detailed his stories become, and the longer it takes to progress. 

‘There’s going to be a lot of editing this down,’ you think to yourself, but you’re immensely intrigued with every story he tells. 

You have managed to put away any feelings you may have had for Sam outside of your professional capacity. You continue to work so well together, but no more dreams or heart palpitations. Even better still, no awkwardness, even after having to turn Sam down. The two of you were wrapping up when you got a text from Riley. They’re coming over tonight. You smirk and text them back that you can’t wait. 

“Alright Sam, let’s get next week’s schedule in the books.”

You arrive home and start dinner while you wait. Riley arrives and sits down at the table and immediately asks you to sit down.

“I’m cooking, silly. I’ll sit when it’s time to eat.”

“No, I need to say this now.”

Their tone was like nothing you’ve heard before. What could be going on, a death in the family? Did they lose their job? You sit down at the table, keeping an eye on the stove.

“You remember when we first started dating… and I was trying to get over my ex?”

“Yeah of course, she really did a number on you. I mean, my ex did to me too, but that’s… whatever, go ahead, sorry.” you realize you were rambling. 

“Well, she reached out to me a few months ago.”

“She did? Oh, well… that’s… why?”

“She wanted to apologize mostly.”

“Well that’s awfully nice. Have you been able to find closure?” As the words left your mouth, your brain finally kicked in and you thought: if this was MONTHS ago, why hasn’t this come up before?

“You could say that…” 

Your stomach felt like a boulder landed in it. You had a bad feeling about this.

“We’ve had a few lunches here and there and uh…”

“Ri... Are you fucking kidding me?” 

They look you in the eye, visibly guilty. 

“We’ve fallen back in love, and I need to see it through this time.”

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do more: cry, vomit, or throw the pan of food at them.

“After everything she put you through, after everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to walk away. Right back to that.”

“I know it might be hard for you to understand, but… I mean, I never really stopped loving her to be honest. Now she loves me again, I have to try to make it work.”

Your eyes start to fill up with tears… “Did you ever… love me?”

Their head falls… “I… I don’t know. I wanted to.”

The words felt like a brick to your stomach. 

“You WANTED to?! Jesus Christ, Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Please don’t let it end this way.”

“Oh, I’M not. YOU are. GET OUT!”

They sit there, unwavering, wheels turning, trying to figure out if there’s a way to salvage anything.

You take the food off the stove and scream at the top your lungs. “GEEEEEEEET OOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!!”

They finally stand up and walk toward the door. Once it’s opened, they stop in the threshold and turn back to you.

“I really am sorry.” they say before shutting the door behind them.

You stand at the counter staring at the now overcooked food. You pick up the plate next to it and throw it against the opposite wall. You fall to the floor and cry. You did everything right and ultimately, you were the one who got hurt the most.

“And you moved all of my appointments?... Okay, great. Thank you. See you next week.” You hang up the phone with your assistant. 

There is no way you can work right now. You set your phone down and head to your couch. It’s been a couple days since Riley broke up with you, but you’re not quite ready enough to face all your clients. You grab your mug of tea and curl up on the couch. You put on a movie and try not to think about what a waste the last few years of your relationship were. Nearly an hour into the movie, your phone buzzes. You assume it’s your assistant and ignore it but then another message comes in shortly after.

You sigh and reach for your phone and see that it’s from Sam. 

‘Hey, I got a call you have to reschedule….  
Is everything alright?’

You text him back, lying that you’re sick and you’ll be back next week. You thank him for checking in and put the phone back down. A few minutes go by and your phone buzzes again. 

‘Well, I hope you’re being taken care of! See you next week!’

You feel the lump in your throat and swallow it down. You start to type that you’re NOT being taken care of and what an absolute fuckwad Riley is, but you immediately erase it. No need to drag him into your drama. You put your phone back down and go back to your movie. Eventually the tea turns into tequila and the movies get more and more macabre. You spend some time texting with some of your closest friends who have been your biggest support since the breakup. They keep your spirits up until you finally pass out from all the booze.


	3. 3

You wake up where you left off, face down on the couch. Your head is pounding, but at least it’s a new kind of pain to what you’ve been feeling the last few days. You push yourself up, groaning in agony, and make your way to the kitchen. You start up the coffee machine and wait. Once it’s ready, you pour it into the biggest cup you have, practically a bowl, and prepare it to your exact liking. You go back to the couch, getting ready to settle in for another day of self-loathing and shitty movies. Your phone is buzzing on the coffee table; leftover messages from after you had passed out. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus. You scroll through, crack a small grin or two, and then your face drops sharply. There’s a message from Sam again and when you opened to read it there was an ENTIRE CONVERSATION you don’t remember having. You scroll up furiously to read it. 

Oh no, you told him about Riley. 

‘Ohhhhh no. No no no.’ you think. You keep reading… all his texts are incredibly thoughtful and supportive. Thankfully apart from revealing too much about your personal life by telling him about the breakup, nothing about the conversation was terribly unprofessional. Okay, except for how VERY obviously drunk you were. After careful consideration you decided not to text him back right now. You didn’t want to further humiliate yourself. 

After a few hours of nursing your hangover and throbbing head, your phone buzzes. Sam again. 

‘Hey, you doing okay? Can I bring you anything?’ 

You reply, ‘Thank you, no. I’m alright. Sorry about last night, I didn’t mean to dump my drama into your lap. I was pretty drunk. I promise that I will be totally back to my normal self for our appointment next week.’

‘I’m not worried about that. Just you. Are you sure you don’t need anything?’ he quickly responds.

‘Yes, I’m sure. Thank you, Sam :)’

 

A new week has begun and you can no longer hide out in your home. Thankfully you are feeling more like a human and less like actual garbage. You gather your things and head for the office. You have your appointment with Sam in the afternoon and you find yourself nervous for the first time. You’re not sure if you’re worried about having crossed the professional line so horribly, or that you’re newly single and he’s still so…. Well… Sam. Then again, maybe you’re just nervous to face everyone at the office. They all know why you were out “sick” at this point, and while you have no doubt they’ll be understanding, you just don’t want to see all the sympathetic stares.  
You get in, iced coffee in hand, and put on your best face. A few of your closer colleagues hug you and you finally make it into your office. You shut the door and exhale. Finally, some peace. You get your desk setup and get to work. You see a couple clients before Sam arrives. 

He walks in slowly. “Heyyyy, look who’s back.”

“Good afternoon, Sam,” you smile.

He walks over to you, one hand behind his back. He brings his hand around and gives you a single flower. “I thought this might cheer you up a little.” Your eyes well up and you beam at him.   
“OH SHIT, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to upset you!” he panics.

“No… it’s… this is so nice.” you try to reassure him as a tear streams down your cheek.

“Hey hey, come here.” he says, extending his arms out.

You stand and he pulls you into a warm hug. His breath feels so warm against your skin and you start to feel the lump in your throat again. You know a lot of what you feel about Sam existed before the breakup, but you also know how very vulnerable you are, and that a lot of these thoughts and feelings are a direct result of that. You swallow it all down and finally pull away.

“I’m good, thank you, you’re very sweet. I’m anxious to get back to work and hear more of your story.” 

As you set the flower down on your desk, a shiver runs down your spine. For a split second you want to shove everything off your desk and have him take you right then and there. You know better but for that split second… you shiver again. You pick up your things and head to your chair.

Sam spends the day talking about the weeks leading up to Panama. You’re not sure what happens in Panama, but you can tell it’s gonna get pretty gritty again by the way he speaks of it.  
Your session ends and you’re gathering your things up. Sam walks over to you.

“You going to be okay?” he asks.

You turn to face him and find him closer to you than expected. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I really appreciate how sweet you’ve been, but really, I’m fine.” you tell him, feeling flustered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nods, and backs away. He grabs his jacket and looks to you again, “If you need anything, you call me.”

You nod and try to appear happy.

 

For your next meeting with Sam, you make sure the ashtray starts empty. He has indicated more than once that telling the story of Panama is going to be a pretty serious, heavy couple of days of work. When he arrives he is visibly anxious. 

“Okay… before we start, I want you to know about my backup plan.”

He stares at you, puzzled.

“Often times when clients finish working with me, they bring me gifts to… thank me or just to celebrate their deals.” You tell him as you walk toward your supply closet. “Usually, that gift is of a… liquor variety.”

He chuckles, “Wait, you had booze in here all along?”

“Yes,” you confirm, “but it’s for a specific purpose. You see, it’s one thing if we’re done for the day and need to lighten the mood. Which is what we did on your first day.” You pull the doors of the cabinet open and pull out a bottle of scotch and a single glass, “What these are for… are days like today could be… I need you to keep working through the story, we don’t have time to pause for a cheer up at the bar next door, but you might need the booze to power through.”

You place the bottle and the glass onto the table, near the ashtray.

“Oh, so you want to get me hammered?” 

You can’t help but blush a little as you laugh, “No no no, it isn’t about getting you smashed, just… taking any edges off.”

He grins, “Suuuuuure.”

You settle in and he begins by telling you about the man who helped bribe their and Nathan’s way into this prison. You hold up your hand, “First, I need you to spell that name.”

“R-a-f-e, first name; A-d-l-e-r, last name.”

Your pencil scrawls down the name and you continue, “Second, I just want to be sure I understand you correctly. You, your brother, and this… Rafe, bribed your way… INTO prison?”

He nods and continues to explain the connection to this prison and the treasure they were seeking. They were in there for what felt like an eternity to make sure that them being there seemed legitimate to those who weren’t in on it. He spoke of the fighting, the poor treatment, and terrible food they endured all to secure a small fraction of time in a dilapidated cell, to search for a centuries old clue or two. Sam smirks as he recalls learning a LOT of unsavoury phrases in Spanish during his time there, and a lot of card games just to get a cigarette or two in his hands. Thankfully he was very good at hustling for his addiction. He lights one cigarette after another now. Maybe because he was talking about, but more likely from what was to come. He stops talking for a moment, takes a long drag and pours himself a drink while exhaling the smoke through his nose. 

“Getting real serious now, aren’t we?” you inquire.

He nods, almost despondent. 

“Take your time, Sam.” 

He swigs the booze and takes another long drag. He explains how his brother got into the tower and found the clue they needed, but then Nathan had to tell them that the guard that helped them in found out just how much what they were after was worth… and he wanted a bigger payout. He now wanted a cut of the whole treasure, not just what Rafe was already paying him. He goes on about how this upset Rafe and how it caused an even bigger rift between Nathan and Rafe, though there was no love lost even prior to that. He details a fight that broke out and being dragged into the warden's office with Vargas, the corrupt warden they bribed to get them in, where they were confronted with his demands. His hands start to shake a little when he begins to explain where it all fell apart. Rafe killing Vargas, and the three of them on the run to get out. They almost lose Rafe at one point and then they all meet up and are jumping rooftops. Sam starts to tear up and he details his final jump, his brother catching him, and a brief feeling of relief before the bullets tore through him. 

His voice breaks some as he says he tried to smile at his baby brother so he’d think it was alright so Nathan would keep going, but his body was shutting down so fast. His brother lost his grip when he passed out and he crashed through the top one of the buildings and landed hard on the ground below. 

He stops talking again and though his head is down and tucked behind his free hand, you hear a sob escape him. You put your things down and walk over to the couch, sitting next to him. You throw your left arm across his back and your right hand on his knee. 

“Sam… Jesus, I’m so sorry, that must have been awful.”

He inhales deeply and leans his body into you a little. You lay your head on his shoulder in a sort of awkward side hug. He takes a couple more breaths to compose himself before finally lifting his head. Another single tear is clinging to his cheek; you lift your hand from his knee and wipe it gently with your finger. His eyes close and he takes your hand into his. He opens his eyes and leans into you, before you realize it he’s kissing you. 

You sharply pull back in shock, “Oh!”

He pulls back abruptly too, “Shit, I’m sorry. That was… I’m so sorry.” 

“I... “

“No, it’s... I’m sorry. I’m gonna go, we can finish tomorrow.”

Sam quickly stamps out his cigarette, grabs his jacket and bolts out the door. You’re still on the couch, replaying the last few minutes over in your head. 

‘WHY DID YOU PULL BACK?’ you think. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

You stand up and start pacing the room. The kiss was nice, but it’s just… it’s all too soon. It’s only been a week since Riley left. You were with Riley for YEARS. This isn’t something that just heals overnight, and Sam is so great. If something is going to happen between you, it can’t be when your feelings are this raw. It can’t be a rebound, HE can’t be the rebound guy. That would be a HUGE mistake. Tears of your own start to well up in your eyes; you didn’t want to hurt him or freak him out. This is the second time you’ve effectively rejected him and it’s not for lack of interest, just… terrible fucking timing.

Shortly after you compose yourself, your assistant buzzes in. Sam has cancelled his appointment tomorrow. Your chin starts to tremble, you pick up your phone and text Sam. 

‘Sam, please don’t be upset. I was just surprised and things are really raw for me right now. If it helps it was a really nice kiss. Please come to your appointment. I’m sorry.’

You wring your hands and pace the room, waiting for him to respond. You slump onto the couch and lay across it. It’s everything you can do not to cry again. Several minutes pass before you hear a knock at the door. You sit up quickly and head over, all the while wondering how long have you been lying there? What time is it? 

You fling the door open and there is Sam. He grabs your face and kisses you hard and pushes you into the room. Before you know it, you’re up against your desk and his hands move from your face to your sides. He pulls you into him and you feel how hard he is. You’re about to tear off your clothes and let him take you, when your phone buzzes. Your eyes open again and you sit up from the couch. Another dream. Damn. 

The message is from Sam.

‘Nothing to be sorry for, I just need a day to repair my pride. We are good, see you next time.’

It wasn’t ideal, but for now it will have to do.


	4. 4

When you finally meet with Sam again, you’re anxious to make sure that it is not awkward at all. He sits down and you sit across from him, while he lights up a smoke you start. “Okay, full disclosure time and then we can get to work. I want to state clearly and for the record, that I do like you, Sam. I just need more time to get over, and through this breakup. We’ve already worked together a couple months now, and we’re only up to your twenties so let’s just finish your book together and after that… We can see where it all goes.”

Sam is grinning warmly at you, “It’s a deal.”

You can’t help but grin, “Well, great. Let’s get started. I know last time was rough even before… you know… but we need to pick up after you lost consciousness.”

Sam takes his usual long drag and begins.He talks about waking up in the infirmary and spending weeks recovering in substandard conditions. He starts chain smoking while talking about the beatings he endured from the angry staff. Even those who believed him when he said it was Rafe who killed Vargas still went after Sam because someone had to pay for what was done. It made fools out of the staff, and that couldn't stand. 

The appointment goes over but neither of you seem to mind. You pencil in the next few appointments and say goodbye. You pack up to go home and your phone buzzes. Sam. He just left ten minutes ago, what is this about?

‘No pressure and nothing implied. I just want you to know you looked really beautiful today.’

Your face slowly fills with red and your heart feels like it skips a full beat or two. How is this even real? You were with Riley for years and never did they ever send a message like this. This realization starts to take the wind out of your sails. You put so much of yourself, your life, and your love into the relationship with Riley. It’s impossible to ignore how easily they were able to throw that aside for the promise of something they previously had. No amount of flattery from Sam or any other person was going to repair the damage that Riley had done. You were going to have to figure out another way. Because you know that until it is repaired you'll never be able to trust someone on an intimate level. 

You sigh heavily and head home. 

 

Over the next several weeks, you and Sam continue to remain professional and work on his book. Well, mostly professional. The texting has become a near daily occurrence and sometimes the dialogue starts to stray into “dangerous” territory. But you both always manage to steer it before things get out of hand. Your assistant has noticed there is definitely something brewing with the two of you. You now walk Sam to the door when he leaves and she's caught him kissing your cheek goodbye more than once. Not to mention the little smile radiating on your face when you close the door. 

Sam has you laughing during every meeting with a variety of puns that he recalls telling his brother and their adventure companion Sully during their trips to Scotland and Madagascar. You always let out a genuine laugh and Sam will light up and tell you how much they DIDN’T appreciate his humour. 

Lately you have observed how much it felt like you were dating. The level of intimacy and chemistry that you two had was incredible, especially considering the lack of actual dating and physical contact that goes with a romantic relationship. On one hand, this was really comforting to you, but on the other made you more and more nervous. What if you weren't sexually compatible? What if he learns more about you and doesn't like what he hears, just liked what he saw when he was spelling his heart out? Maybe he just liked you because he could be vulnerable with you. 

All your friends were dying to meet him, some of them never much cared for Riley and are intrigued with this mystery man in your life. You regret saying anything to them, all this expectation being put on you… what happens when the book gets finished? What if it all falls apart?

 

More weeks and appointments come and go. You and one of your friends have plans after work. And while you’re enjoying your time with Sam, you’re really excited for work to end so you can have a night out.

Sam pauses your session to use the restroom and you check your phone and see your friend has texted you, asking you to call her. You figure you’ve got a few minutes, so you go ahead. 

She tells you she can’t go tonight and your heart sinks.

Sam comes back and sees your disappointed face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, no, I’m not gonna continue until you tell me!”

“I just… had plans with a friend to go to this show tonight and she can’t find anyone to watch her kids and… I just was really looking forward to it. It’s okay.”

“I could watch the kids!” he jokes.

“Ha ha ha. Very funny.” you snark back to him.

He chuckles and then goes on, “No seriously, I’ll go with you. It could be our unofficial first date.”

You think it over for a moment. 

“Well, I don’t see why not as long as we don’t… you know…”

“Oh no! I want you to respect me in the morning” he jests, being dramatic.

“Good lord,” you laugh, “Alright, well she was going to pick me up at 7.”

“7 it is, then… now, where was I?”

You open your notes. “You and Nathan just got separated in the storm.”

“AH! Right…” he goes on.

 

At 6:45 you were finishing up your makeup at the office, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. You couldn't believe it, after all this time you were finally going on a date, and you were going with Sam! You kept giving yourself a pep talk about making sure things don't go too far. You two still have a lot of work on his book to do before you can really go there. But maybe a little make out session could be arranged? Then again, that's usually a bit of a slippery slope. 

Sam texts you, he is outside in the car. You grab your purse, lock up your office and head out. He jumps out of his car when he sees you come out of the building and opens the car door.

“Ooh what a gentleman, thank you!” you grin. He gets back in the car, puts it into gear and takes your hand with his as he starts to drive. 

You tell him a bit about the show you’re both heading to, saying you hope he enjoys it; it's not everyone's style. He squeezes your hand gently and says, “I'm with you, I'm sure I'll enjoy every minute.”

“Oh Jesus, ease up man, you're gonna give me a cavity with all this sweetness.”

He laughs, leans over, and kisses your cheek.

“You love it.” He retorts.

It's true. You do. You love every second of it. 

“Naaaaah!!!!” you tease. 

When you arrive at the venue there's a short line to get in. You stand in front of Sam and he holds you around your waist, both of you facing forward waiting for the line to move. You resemble the kind of couples you used to hate. You can't help but just smirk and blush as you shuffle forward together. When you both get in, you find a spot near the front. Once you're settled, Sam slips away to get you both a drink. He returns, glasses in hand and gives you one of them. You sip through the tiny straw and glance up at him with a smile. He beams down at you and the venue lights come down. You turn back to the stage, continuing to sip your drink with a grin. You both finish your drinks by the end of the first song and Sam takes them over to the bar and returns to you, slipping his arms around you. You both watch and sway to the music as it courses through the room. 

Towards the midpoint of the show, the tempo changes to a ballad and Sam turns you to face him and throws your arms around his neck. He puts his hands back down at your waist and you lay your head on him. You're far from the only couple dancing in the room but you feel like the only couple in the world. You can hear his heartbeat, slow and steady as you sway. The song ends and he kisses you. You want it to last forever but it's short and sweet. You turn back to the front to watch the rest of the show. You can't remember the last time you had that was this comfortable and exciting and perfect.

When the show ends, Sam takes you by the hand and walks with you to the car. He goes on about how much he really did enjoy the show and how glad he is that your friend couldn't come. He opens the car door for you and takes your hand while he drives you home again. He pulls up to your place and shuts the car off, walks around and opens your door one more time. He helps you step out of the car and walks you to your front door. 

“You sure you don’t want me to take you back to the office?” he asks, as you near the door.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll just take a cab to work tomorrow.” you say, digging for your keys. You pull them out and rotate toward the door. 

You stop after putting the key into the lock and turn to him, nervously dragging one of your feet back and forth in the ground… 

“Do you… Maybe… Wanna come in and make out a little?” 

“I can't,” he says.

“Oh…” You find it difficult to hide your equal parts of surprise and disappointment. Your mind starts to race on how you can escape this awkward moment sooner than now. He catches your expression and the wheels of panic turn in your head.

“It's just… If I start kissing you, I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I know how you want to behave until our work is done.”

You're not even sure what to say. His respect for your feelings makes you want to throw all your ‘rules’ right out the window.

“Make you a deal, though,” he says “how about one really great goodnight kiss right here?”

You grin and nod. Sam steps forward and kisses you. Soft and sweet, then slowly opens his mouth and coaxes yours to do the same as the kiss becomes more passionate. You pull him closer and feel his excitement below. Just when you start to feel yourself lose self control, he slows the kiss back to soft and sweet and he pulls back.

You bite your lip as he starts to walk backwards toward his car. 

“Good night, gorgeous.” He says with a wink. 

You turn your key and go inside. After you shut the door you hear him drive away. You lean against the door and sigh with a devilish grin. You hum the song from the show as you walk to your room. You strip down for bed and crawl in. Closing your eyes just lets you relive every moment of tonight… your hand slowly makes its way between your legs and you fall asleep pleasuring yourself.


	5. 5

When you wake up, your hand is still between your thighs. You sigh and get ready then head off to work.. You're on such a high from the night before every mundane thing suddenly seems like it's the greatest thing.

"I wonder if he wants to change writers so we can speed this up," you think to yourself, "I know I kind of want to."

You ponder it more and decide to see what Sam thinks. You can't wait to get to work, you haven't been this excited to see a client ever. Then again, no client has ever moved past the harmless flirting phase. When you arrive several of your colleagues are pressing you to find out how the date went. It doesn't take long for them to read it on your face.

You start setting up in your office and can't believe how giddy you are. Sam does the unthinkable and actually shows up on time today. He saunters in, grinning and comes right up to you.

"Hey there." he says, inches from your face.

"Hi." you say in your most sultry voice.

You both stand there for a moment, staring at each other like idiots before Sam finally kisses your cheek then takes his place on the couch.

You take your seat and immediately ask the question that's been on your mind, "I've been wondering… do you want me to set you up with another writer so you and I can just… date now?"

He shifts in his seat and leans forward, "You know, I thought about that a lot last night after I got home. The thing is though, I really feel like I need YOU on this. We've already come so far and I trust you completely. I'm not sure I could be as open as I need to if I had to start over with someone else. Don't get me wrong, this is hard enough," he tugs at his pant leg as he says it, flashing you a devilish grin, "but I think we should see it through, I mean, we're nearly there."

"Fair enough then." you say. You totally understand and don't disagree with him, but you can't help but feel a little bit let down that you won't be taking him home tonight after all. "Let's get to work!"

You and Sam spend the last few weeks of his appointments with your noses to the grindstone. You both had become so anxious to finish that it's become the absolute focus every appointment. Which isn't to say there weren't moments of non-book focus outside of the appointments. Your phone was full of pretty risqué conversations with Sam. You always used to feel silly sending things like that with Riley, but with Sam it was actually pretty sexy.

On your second to last appointment Sam starts to ask, "So what happens after tomorrow. I have no more story to tell for the book so…"

You explain that once you finish typing it up, he will review it and then it will get submitted to his publisher. From there, your job is done.

On the day of your last appointment, he brings lunch again. During the lunch break, you talk with him about several publishers and he cracks a joke at you. Instinctively you pick up the closest item to you and throw it at him.

He doubles over with laughter, "Did… did you just throw a fry at me?!"

"Yes I did, you shut up!"

He continues to laugh and eats the fry in defiance. You shake your head and throw another. This one bounces right off his forehead.

"Oh you're gonna get it now," he says as he stands up and starts coming toward you.

You shriek and leap from your seat to move quickly behind your desk. He darts left and right trying to get you to run, when you assistant buzzes in.

"I heard you scream, is everything alright?!"

You shoot Sam a look and confirm you are fine. "I… Spilled. That's all. It's under control now, thank you."

You and Sam return to your seats to finish lunch, and he giggles the whole time.

"Alright get serious, mister." You say, trying to get the two of you refocused.

The night after your final appointment Sam insists on taking you to dinner before you finish up the writing. You meet him at the restaurant after getting your home office setup for the weekend work. You're seated together in a booth and you're excited to slide right up to him. Your hands are all over each other but only in the most, publicly appropriate ways. He caresses your cheek, brushes your hair out of your face, you hold hands and lay your head on his shoulder as you talk. But at no point until your food arrives are you not touching some part of each other.

When the food arrives you feed each other bites of what you ordered in between conversation. Sam tries to take his fork to your plate for more, and you pretend like you're going to jab him with your fork to shoo him away, only to take a forkful and feed him the bite yourself. Making sure to get some of it on his face. At which point you both start giggling again and he starts looking for something he can promptly smear on your face for revenge.

The waitress comes over during all this to check on you and Sam looks at her with sincere guilt. Once again, you both forgot the rest of the world existed.

When the waitress leaves again, you giggle, "This is why we can't have nice things!"

He laughs too and says, "you're telling me!" as he smears a line of mustard down your cheek.

"Oh my god." You gasp, reaching for your napkin, "you absolute asshole." You wipe your face unable to keep it straight. You have never had this much fun with someone in your life. After you wipe it off, you lean forward and kiss this silly man that fate brought into your life.

"Yellow's a good color for you, babe" he notes.

You shake your head and decide not to tell him he still has a small piece of potato on his chin for his mustard mishap.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus chapter for the long weekend. enjoy!

You spend the whole weekend formatting and entering in the last chapter of his book. You triple check everything before submitting to the editor. Once the editor finishes and sends it back, it will be ready for Sam to send to the publisher and finally you two can be fully together. In public, in the bedroom, and even around family. During the week you work with your other clients. Every time you hear your email notification, you hope it's Sam’s edited book so it can be submitted. 

Finally, Wednesday afternoon it arrived. You texted Sam and told him he could come pick it up to take to his publisher. You sent the file to the printer and continued to work until he arrived. 

When Sam arrived you handed him the transcript as well as the thumb drive with the completed file of his book. He summed through the pages gently, and his eyes started to water.

“I can't believe it,” he says, “ I wrote a book. Well, basically.”

“You did, you absolutely did! When the publisher does their part, people around the world will be able to read the tale of your great pirate adventures.” 

His eyes widen at the mention of his pirate adventures. “Wow,” he whispers.

“I think it’s time for a celebration, sir!” You walk to your closet and pull out a bottle of champagne.

He looks at you perplexed, “You have bubbly, just… at the ready?”

You nod and remind him about how your clients often give you gifts in the form of booze. You pull out a couple glasses and pop the cork. You fill the glasses and walk over to Sam. You hand him his glass and promptly raise your own.

“So, this isn’t a proper champagne flute, but the toast is what’s important anyway. To your pirate adventures, may they inspire other young ones to go seek their fortune, and maybe spend less time in prisons.”

“Cheers to that,” Sam says as his glass meets yours. After you both take a drink, Sam asks, “Hey, I didn’t see your assistant out there, is anyone else here?”

“In the office? No, I’m pretty sure they’ve all gone home.”

Sam sets his glass down on the coffee table and walks over to your office door. You’re about to ask where he’s going, but instead of opening the door, he locks it. Your heart immediately starts to pound. 

He returns to your side and firmly states, “Now, we’re going to switch things up a bit.”

You cock your head with a confused look and he points to the couch, “Have a seat.”

He sits down in your chair and you sit on the couch. He tells you that he wants to start hearing some of your stories. You begin by telling him bits about your childhood. He picks up your pen and starts taking notes. Mid-way through the story, he holds up his hand, the same way you signal him, but instead of asking you to spell something he holds up the notepad and shows you what he’s written.

‘I’m going to make you scream.’

Your face goes flush and your heart picks up the pace again. He motions for you to continue your story, so you go on. After a minute he slumps out of the chair and onto the floor. He pushes the coffee table out of his way and crawls over to where you’re sitting. You keep telling the story while watching his every move. He takes one of your feet and removes your shoe, slowly. Then, the next shoe. He kisses one of your ankles and then keeps going, up, up, up. 

He gets above your knee and looks deep into your eyes. You nod at him and in one very swift motion, he pulls your skirt up and panties off. At this point you’ve stopped talking and all you can seem to do is try to focus on breathing. You scoot to the edge of the couch as Sam gently grabs your knees and pulls them apart. He glides a hand in and spreads your labia gently, grazing your clit with his thumb. You shiver and gasp a little. Sam uses this as his cue to explore your crease with his tongue. His hands come around your hips and hold you firm on the buttocks. He flicks his tongue expertly on your clit and you roll your eyes back in ecstasy. You start to moan as Sam gaining momentum. He brings one hand back around and gently slides a couple fingers into you, curling them to stimulate your G-spot. You throw your arms up and let your hands sort of dangle off the back of the couch as you arch your back and push your pelvis into him more. 

You start to feel your orgasm approaching and you only can manage to whimper, “Sammmm” before it hits you. 

Sure enough, as the wave of pleasure hits you, you’re screaming and your legs are shaking. Sam doesn’t stop and you have another three orgasms before you finally have to ask him to stop. 

He pulls your skirt back down for you and sits on the couch by you with a satisfied grin. 

“I’m going to need a few before I can return the favor,” you tell him, gasping for breath.

“Oh no,” he answers, “tonight was all about you.”

For a moment you were legitimately confused. Never have you been with a man who didn’t go down on you solely for the expectation of payback. You pull your legs up onto the couch and lay down with your head in his lap. He begins to run his fingers through your hair and the two of you spend another couple hours just talking. When you’re ready to go home, he helps you pack up and carry your things to your car.

“So, when will I see you again?” he asks.

“Come over, stay the weekend.” you tell him.

“Are we ‘official’ then?” he asks with a sly grin.

“Yeah, definitely.”


	7. 7

Sam goes back to his place first to get some things and lock up, which gives you time to tidy up and make sure there's nothing embarrassing lying around. You throw on a Prince CD and start making dinner for you and Sam. You leave the door unlocked for him and he shows up about fifteen minutes later. He comes in and hears “Erotic City” blasting through your house. He finds you in the kitchen and says nothing but starts dancing along with you as you cook. 

When the chorus hits, he gets right in your ear and sings along, “We can fuck until the dawn, makin’ love ‘til cherry’s gone…” and nibbles on your neck. You keep cooking, dancing, and singing along and Sam keeps trying to distract you. The song changes and you start plating the meal. 

As you turn to set the plates on the table, you look at Sam and ask, “do you think we can get through this meal without getting it on our faces for once?” 

You set the plates down and sit at the table. Sam picks a chair and slides it right next to you. The two of you enjoy the meal together without incident. Afterwards, Sam takes the dishes over to the sink and rinses them off while you pack up the leftover food.

You both settle on the couch watching tv together and you think about how this is a glimpse into what your life could be like. The thought makes you emotional, and you catch yourself trying to hold back the tears. As if he knew, Sam pulls you in closer to him and you nuzzle against him. He strokes your hair at first, but his hand starts to wander, finding it’s way to your breast, caressing them over your shirt. You follow suit, taking your hand and rubbing his upper thigh and grazing past the erection trapped in his jeans. You sit up and straddle him. He grabs your ass firmly and you kiss him hard. After a minute or two, he lifts you off of him and the two of you head into your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed and remove your shirt, he stands in front of you and does the same. He kicks his shoes into a corner as you start to undo your bra. 

“Don’t,” he says, “let me do it.” 

You sit still and watch him remove his socks before he comes up to you, standing between your knees. He leans over and kisses your neck while he puts his arms around your back and undoes your bra clasp with ease. He gently pushes you to lay on your back and takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Then over to the next one as you fumble with his belt. He stands back up and finishes removing his pants while you make fast work of removing the rest of your clothes. When you look back at him, he’s fully naked and…

“Whoa.” you didn’t mean for it to come out, but… Sam is quite big. 

He looks a little nervous but pulls your knees apart again and starts going down on you. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder and massages your clit with his tongue fast[,] and with perfect pressure. You climax quickly and sit straight up after. You scoot yourself back on the bed and pull him toward you. 

“You sure?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah, just go slow,” you tell him. 

He climbs over you and grabs his cock firmly so he can slide it into you gently. It hurts just a little[,] and you sigh as you relax your body to ease the pain. He starts to move forward on the bed, when…

“Ow!” you cry out. 

He freezes and you start to giggle.

“Babe, you’re on my hair.” 

“Oh shit, sorry!” He moves his hand and you pull on his shoulders again to let him know to move. He starts to thrust gently again and you moan softly. 

He takes it nice and slow until you finally mutter for him to go faster. You clench yourself around him every forward thrust and he grunts in response. He continues his rhythm as he leans in closer to you and kisses your lips, then your neck, then back to your breasts. Your fingers start to dig into his back as you feel another orgasm coming on. You’d never been able to come from penetration alone, but Sam’s cock is a perfect fit and hits every spot that counts. 

It does start to hurt a little again, so you tell him to let you on top. He lays down and you crawl over him and slide him into you. Now you can control the depth and speed and really begin to let loose. Sam watches you intently as you ride him. He has his hands on your hips at first, then moves one hand to massage your clit as you grind. His fingers are a little rough to the touch but somehow feels perfect right now. You feel another wave of pleasure come over and now you feel totally ready for what you’re about to ask. 

You hop off him and before he can ask what you want, you get on all fours. “I like to finish this way.”

He bites his lip and positions himself behind you. He pushes gently back into your cunt and you lay your face down onto the pillow, moaning loudly. He starts slow and steady again at first, but finally you can hardly take it anymore and you turn back to him.

“Harder, baby, fuck me hard!”

He speeds up and the two of you are making deep and guttural animalistic noises of pleasure, when finally Sam says those magical words, “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

His hand slides up your back and you tell him, “Pull my hair!” 

He grabs a fistful and as he’s coming, he tugs firmly and you clench around him again. It’s intense and the hottest climax you’ve ever been a part of.

You both collapse onto the bed and he lights a cigarette. Your legs feel like jelly and your heart is finally starting to slow down. Neither of you say anything. When he puts his cigarette out, he rolls and snuggles near you. When the two of you finally fall asleep, you’re spooning him and neither of you put any clothes back on.


	8. 8

When you wake up you’re both still naked and entwined. He’s tracing his fingers along your arm. A grin spreads evenly across your face as you nuzzle into his neck, kissing it.

“Good morning, Sam.” you murmur.

“Morning, beautiful.” he responds, rolling over to face you. You stare into each other’s eyes and he moves the hair from your face. Suddenly, he exclaims, “Well, I got what I wanted!” and he pretends to get up. You slug him gently in the arm and he rolls back to you, caressing your arm. He leans forward and kisses your nose. 

You blush and kiss him back. You roll over and start to get out of bed, but Sam gently grabs your arm.

“No, just… stay in bed with me…”

“I’ll be right back,” you tell him and slip into your bathroom. 

You quickly go about your business but as you stand before your mirror, washing your hands; you look at yourself: naked, hair disheveled, makeup either smeared or gone. You think it odd, but you have never seen yourself more beautiful than you do now, knowing Sam is in the next room thinking you’re beautiful just like this. Every curve, every scar, every stretch mark, every imperfection you’ve ever hated about yourself, he doesn’t mind or straight up adores. 

You dry your hands and crawl back into bed, cuddling up with Sam. It isn’t long before the two of you are back to fucking.

 

Eventually the two of you manage to shower and get mostly dressed. You’re wearing his shirt and just your undies around the house. He’s wearing his boxers, but nothing else. The two of you have a meal together and decide to just enjoy some downtime. You pull out the book you’ve been meaning to read and put on your reading glasses. You sit up in bed when Sam comes back in from the bathroom. 

“Oh my God.” he says, staring at you.

“What?!” you worry you have something else on your face.

“Don’t move,” 

Now you’re worried it’s a spider. “Sam, what is it?” You’re paralyzed with fear at this point.

“You. You look SO sexy like that. I just want to take it all in.”

“Oh good lord, get over here and shut up.” you scoff.

“Oh I’ll get over there… I can’t promise either of us will be shutting up though.”

“You know, our entire relationship can’t just be sex all the time…” you say, slightly concerned.

He comes over and sits next to you, “I’m just making up for all those weeks we were practically dating, but not being intimate. That’s all.” He shoots you that Sam Drake sly grin that you can’t resist. 

You roll your eyes and kiss him. “Fine, but at least let me finish this chapter first…”

He waggles his eyebrows at you and responds, “Deal.”

 

Several weeks go by and you find yourself at your bed with Sam again, only this time he is packing.

“Do you haaaaaaaave to go? You just got here!” you whine.

“I know, I know, I’m not even finished unpacking yet, but Sully promises this trip will only be a couple of weeks.”

Sam started moving in a week ago; things between you are going extremely well. You spend basically all your free time together and never get bored. This is the first trip he’s had to go on since you met and you’re already gaining a heavy feeling of separation anxiety. 

“But it’s dangerous, right?”

Sam sees the fear on your face and puts his clothes down. He walks over to the side of the bed that you’re on and puts his hands on your face. 

“It’ll be fine, I PROMISE. I’ll be back in two weeks and I’ll ravage the ever loving Christ out of you and you’ll BEG me to go on another trip.”

“I doubt that.” you frown.

He kisses you softly and says, “Okay, maybe not that last part.”

Sully arrives an hour or so later and sits next to you on the couch while Sam loads up the car.

“You okay, kid?” he asks.

“Yeah. It’s not even so much that I’m going to miss him, I’m just worried about you two doing things that are dangerous like this. What if something happens?”

“Look, we’ve been at this a long time. On the danger scale, this one ranks pretty low. I swear, I’ll get him home to you.” Sully gives you a warm smile and you’re compelled to trust him. 

“Alright.” you say.

After the car is loaded, both men give you very big hugs and lots of reassurances.


	9. 9

You spend the next couple of weeks working on a client’s book, trying not to worry about Sam and Sully. Sam does text you every morning, which is comforting, but the overall concern doesn't go away, especially at night when your arm lands on the empty side of the bed.

You're typing away when your phone buzzes, alerting you to a voicemail. You curse with annoyance, your phone didn't even ring and now you have a voicemail. It's a number you don't know, so you put it on speaker to listen while you keep typing.

“Hey, babe! Victor and I are on our way back, but there's some fog here so we're not cleared for take off yet. But don’t worry, we’ll be in the air as soon as possible.”

Relief washes over you and then you're struck with how much you have missed hearing his voice. Your mind begins to wander as you think about him coming home, holding you, kissing you, fucking you…

Your whole body starts to feel warm as you fantasize about Sam’s return. You close your laptop and go into your room. You shut the curtains and crawl into bed, placing your phone next to you. You play the voicemail again and as his voice echoes against the walls of your room[;] your hand slides into your pants and you start to massage your clit. You use your free hand to play the message again over and over. You lick your lips, slide down the bed a bit more and close your eyes. You’re thinking about every inch of Sam naked, and in front of you. You’re imagining licking his neck, his scars, his big[,] thick cock. You let out a whimper as your clit swells. You play the message again, louder. You’re feeling the orgasm about to come, the heat rising from your feet to your face, when you hear…

“Whoa, babe, starting without me?”

You shoot up and see Sam, dropping his bag onto the floor. 

“BABY!” you cry out, leaping from the bed to him, “You said you were stuck!”

“Yea, that was hours ago! Do you not check your messages?” 

“It JUST came in.”

“Ah, and this was your response to it, then?”

You blush and fumble with your hands. He takes the hand he caught down your pants and gives each finger a suck. You pull him into bed and the two of you don’t leave it until well into the next day.

 

A few months go by and before you know it, Sam’s bringing a giant Douglas Fir into your living room after you’ve spent the day decorating the rest of the house for Christmas. The first Christmas together is always magical for you, but it’s extra magical knowing how excited Sam is for Christmas. You’ve invited over Sully, Nathan, Elena, and little Cassie over for the day. He’s never hosted a holiday before, and when you suggested it his eyes lit up like you’d never seen before.

Today is the 23rd and Sam gets the tree up in the living room. You put on some Christmas music and after he sets the tree, he runs into the kitchen and picks you up, and spins you around and kisses you.

“I got THE best tree, I got THE best girl, and we are going to have THE best Christmas.” he gushes.

You have him taste the food you’ve been preparing, after he gives his approval, he goes back to get the lights up on the tree. You get the pie in the oven and watch from the kitchen as he bounces around the tree, stringing the lights and singing along. He catches you watching him and starts to tell you about how much he missed Christmas the most when he was in prison. You walk over to him and slide your arms around him, planting a kiss on him. 

“You’ll never have a Christmas like that again, you know.” 

He gazes at you and smiles, “I know.”

You start picking out some ornaments to hang from the box of them you’ve collected over the years. You hear him walk away. You turn and see him grabbing something from his jacket on the coatrack by the door. You direct your attention back to the box, when Sam appears next to you, crouched down.

“I got us a little something today.”

You look over and he’s holding a single small ornament. It is silver and round, and in a cute cursive font it reads: ‘Our First Christmas’ with both your names underneath. 

Your eyes light up and you meet Sam’s. Before you can say anything, he takes your breath away, “I love you.” he confesses. 

“Oh, babe. I’m so in love with you.”

You embrace into a kiss, then you both stand and place your first ornament on your first tree together. 

The next night, the gang arrives for the holidays. Elena and Cassie are smitten with the decor and the skillfully wrapped gifts (all you, of course.) Sully and Nate are impressed with the selection of food (and booze… and cigars.) Nathan and his family are setup in the guest room and Sully has gleeful commandeered the couch. You catch Sam getting a little emotional, seeing a house full of his loved ones all gathered for his favourite holiday. You quietly slide up next to him and fold your arms around him. He puts an arm around you too, and wipes his face to hide all evidence of emotion. 

“I never thought… I’d have something like this. I have this because I have you.” he says, softly.  
You kiss him gently and lay your head on his shoulder. He inhales deeply and calls everyone into the living room to open presents. “JUST ONE tonight!” Well, one in addition to a copy of Sam’s finally published book. 

Everyone gathers by the tree. Cassie, the first and most enthusiastic to dig under the tree looking for what she was dying to open. Cassie was all too willing to pick out what Elena and Nate would open as well. You picked out one for Sully, and Sam’s of course. Sam picks one for you. You watch with joy as Cassie tears into hers, Nate and Elena cuddle up together, opening theirs together at the same time. You observe Sully’s deep chuckle of joy, after he sees what he got. Sam sits next to you and opens his, another pirate book from his brother. You didn’t realize you were still holding yours until you were suddenly aware the whole room was watching you. 

“Oh, sorry!” you laugh and start opening the tiny little gift. 

You take the wrapping paper off and see a small white box. You lift the lid and inside is a smaller black felt box. You heart freezes as you pull out the small black box and Sam gets down on his knee in front of you. You see Elena sit up and cover her mouth while Sully and Nate just grin like idiots at you and little Cassie is bouncing up and down hugging her gift close to her chest.

Your hands start to shake and you focus your eyes on Sam. He helps you open the box and inside is the perfect ring[:] White gold band with your birthstone in the center and two smaller cut diamonds on the side. You’re afraid to speak, only because you know you’re on the verge of crying. You feel like your entire life has lead up to this moment and there is literally nothing that could happen right now that could make you happier. 

Sam takes your hands and finally speaks, “I love you so much, will you mar-”

“Yes!” you blurt out.

Everyone else erupts into cheers while you and Sam kiss. When you pull away, Sam is quick to take the ring out of the box and slide it onto your finger. A perfect fit. Sully comes over and hands Sam a cigar, while Cassie and Elena hug you at the same time. Nate comes over and hugs his brother and then you. After all the hugs, you break out a bottle of champagne (and a bottle of sparkling apple juice for Cassie) and you all toast to the holidays, the future, and family. 

After Cassie had been tucked into bed with visions of sugarplums, the rest of you gather again to celebrate your engagement. Elena takes you aside and asks if you liked the ring, she helped Sam shop for it. You confirm that they picked the ring quite well and thanked her for her help.

“I’ve only seen Sam light up like that one other time and it was over a treasure. I think he’s found a treasure of sorts, in you. He seems really happy and you’ve been a really positive thing in his life.”

You try not to get overcome with emotion as Elena hugs you and says, “Welcome to the family.”

Sully eventually passes out on the couch, snoring and all. Elena and Nate retire to bed, leaving you and Sam to turn in for the night as well. You pull him close to you and nuzzle your face into his shoulders. He holds your hand and kisses your finger, heavy with a new ring. 

“I’m so glad you said yes.” he whispers.

“Was there any doubt?” you ask.

“Of course there was. You deserve everything. I was afraid you might realize you deserve more than an ex con with a treasure hunting obsession.”

“Sam… I knew who you were before we got together. Your past has never been an issue for me, you know that. As far as what I deserve? I believe I deserve love, loyalty, laughter, and a good life. Do you think you can give me that?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I do.”

“Then I think I got exactly what I deserve when I got you.”

He kisses your hand and you hold him tighter. “Goodnight, Sam… and Merry Christmas.”

You’re still awake when Sam drifts off to sleep. You sigh deeply and start thinking about your lucky life. This is your first Christmas together, and looking down at the beautiful ring on your finger, you take comfort in knowing, it won’t be your last.


End file.
